


Collision Course

by ch3nracha



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Flirting, M/M, Meet-Cute, Random Encounters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:14:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24525976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ch3nracha/pseuds/ch3nracha
Summary: “Hi again,” Chris says, “this is kinda my copy.”“Oh?” He responds, quirking an eyebrow, “unless you’re Karl Marx I don’t see your name on it.”There’s no bite to his voice, only a teasing smile that has Chris wondering if he’s ever actually bothered by things like normal people. “That’s me, I’ve had work done.”(Or: Felix and Chris keep randomly encountering each other on campus)
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Felix
Comments: 15
Kudos: 181





	Collision Course

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on a super long fix (50k+ so far) and wanted (needed) a short break so I wrote this in the meanwhile

Chris has just managed to step off the elevator when the wheel on his suitcase gets caught by the metal strip in front of the heavyset doors. “You’ve got to be kidding.” 

Whoever Chris is talking to is apparently not kidding, the doors start to slide together pressing in on either side of his custom designed luggage carrier. There’s a small city’s worth of people lining the sidewalks outside, moving into their dorms and checking in to both the DA and RA. But the corridor nearby is empty marooning Chris to fight the elevator alone. Honesty he regrets leaning over to swipe that orange he found off the lift’s floor, his bag probably wouldn’t be pinned if he stopped eating fruit off the ground.

“Come on.” Fastening his hands around the handle of his suitcase, he mounts one foot against the wall by the door, tugging as hard as he possibly could. Unexpectedly the doors slide back open and the wheel comes loose, it’s enough to get Chris to pinwheel his arms and basically fall into the guy that just barely exits the stairwell. 

Neither of them fall but they’re both close enough to it, Chris catching himself on the guardrail trailing down the hall. 

Humiliated, Chris offers a palm to the guy that he almost managed to knock over, “Mate I’m so sorry. The elevator wouldn’t let my suitcase leave, I would understand if you want to call me a rude name.” 

Instead of an insult the guy laughs and willingly snags Chris' hand until he’s upright on his feet again. “It’s totally fine I’ve gotten into a few fights myself, none of them elevators but it can’t be that different.” 

Chris is pretty positive he’s being mocked but the guy, the veritably Australian guy, is simpering at him teasingly, wiggling an eyebrow even. That probably shouldn’t arouse Chris the way it does.

“I should probably find my dorm,” Chris says with his suitcase now sitting at his feet. “I’m Chris.”

“Felix.” He says, strolling backwards towards the opposite hall but his eyes stay with Chris.' “I’ll see you around then, try not to pick a fight with the fire extinguisher.” 

Felix disappears around the corner but Chris' grin doesn’t. 

~

Other than his button ups that are still nestled into the bottom of his suitcase, and his boots still sitting in his duffel, Chris has most of his room unpacked. His roommate, Minho, had been doing the same thing and they bonded while carrying their trash to the dumpster out back. 

Classes don’t actually begin until tomorrow, something Chris isn’t entirely prepared for. Partly because he still needs to get a few things off his supply checklist but mostly due to the fact he thought it’d be smart to sign up for a morning class over the summer. It’s a good thing Chris is majoring in music production, he won’t feel as bad sleeping through an 8am philosophy class. 

There’s hardly anyone in the school bookstore when he arrives, other than the student advisor nearly comatose at the checkout counter. Checking his list again he grabs a basket settled on the floor by the entrance and starts shopping around for the books he’d need for upcoming courses. 

“Alright,” Chris says more to himself, “I just need one more book and I should be fine for this term.”

He heads to the political science section, why he thought a class in politics would be fun is beyond him. It’s better than opting for another math course, at least he’s hoping to God it will be. 

Eventually he spots it on the top shelf near the middle, The Communist Manifesto, reaching to grab it. Only he isn’t the only one who grabs it, someone else wraps their fingers around the spine the same time he does and Chris almost tells the other person to fuck off when he realizes it’s the guy he almost murdered with his body weight. Finn? Fabio? 

“Hi again,” Chris says, “this is kinda my copy.” 

“Oh?” He responds, quirking an eyebrow, “unless you’re Karl Marx I don’t see your name on it.” 

There’s no bite to his voice, only a teasing smile that has Chris wondering if he’s ever actually bothered by things like normal people. “That’s me, I’ve had work done.” 

“Well in that case,” Felix, Chris remembers its Felix, says and tugs the text away from where it had been wedged between his fingers, “you believe in sharing. This is the last copy until they get another shipment in like a week. I’m a PoliSci major, I kinda really need this. We can work out a schedule.” 

Chris is pretty sure he only agrees because Felix has a nice grin, the light overhead gleams off of his white chiclet teeth and temporarily hypnotizes Chris. If Chris didn’t pursue the music degree he would have been a dentist, if not to stare at sets of teeth like Felix' textbook perfect simper. 

Felix tears a sheet of paper out of his notebook, digging in his bag for some kind of pen. He writes a series of digits, probably his number, and holds it out for Chris. “I only need it Monday and Wednesday, and then I can buy my own copy. If you need it shoot me a text and I’ll give you my dorm and room info.” 

Before Felix entirely leaves he looks over his shoulder at Chris and says, “or if you want to hang out or something, you can text me.” 

Chris will probably take him up on that offer. 

~

Late, he’s so fucking late. The stupid broken alarm on his clock didn’t sound until five minutes after his philosophy lecture started. He’s trying to multitask, his soppy wet toothbrush hanging from his mouth while he tries to pull his socks on, toothpaste foam splattering on the collar of his button up. Well this is just fucking great.

Minho is lounging on his bed, watching Chris basically run around their dorm like a headless chicken hooked on adderall. If Chris is locked out he won’t know what’s going on for the rest of term and makeup work is so much harder than just being in class and getting his assignments done. What a shitty first day.

“Don’t forget an umbrella,” Minho says from where he’s peering through the blinds, “any more rain and you’ll need a paddle boat to make it to your lecture hall.”

Minho, that lucky son of a bitch, doesn’t begin his lessons until Wednesday, forecasted to be a sunny day with mild wind, fuck him.

Somehow Chris manages to not look like a homeless person that’s aimlessly wandered onto campus, barely getting his left boot on before he’s running down the corridor towards the emergency stairwell.

It’s basically deserted outside, probably because anyone unlucky enough to have an early morning class are already in their classrooms. The umbrella keeps his hair from sticking to his slick skin but it doesn’t do anything when he splashes into a puddle, the water invading his boot. “God strike me down now.”

When he actually gets to his building its radio silence, no one loitering in the halls. Actually there is someone, conveniently standing outside of his room number. The closer Chris gets the sooner he recognizes Felix, soaked to the bone resembling a drowned kitten.

“What happened to you?” Chris asks, not even trying to stop from laughing.

Felix turns, looking just as annoyed as Chris felt not even five minutes ago. “My stupid fucking umbrella wouldn’t open, that’s what I get for spending ₩9000 on a cheap piece of plastic.”

It’s Felix's turn to stare at him, noticing Chris' waterlogged boot, haphazardly drawn back hair, and the noticeable blue stain smeared on his shirt. “What happened to you?”

“Long story,” he says quickly, “wait are you taking this 8am philosophy class?”

Felix nods, water droplets spraying from his hair, “yeah but no one else is here. You’re the only other person that’s showed up.”

What the fuck? Chris peers through the small window of glass installed in the door just to see that it is empty. What the fuck.

It’s 20 past eight, not even the professor is in. “Maybe they drowned on their way over.”

“Hold on,” Felix says scrolling through his iPhone, groaning.

“What?”

Pivoting his phone around Felix holds it out long enough for Chris to realize he’s looking at an email. He only needs to read the first sentence to realize it’s a mass email notifying everyone class is cancelled because of the weather. “Are you kidding.”

It’s not Chris' fault he never checks his email, who even uses email anymore? Apparently not Felix either. Oh well, at least Chris can go and pass out in his bed until his noon lecture.

Felix reaches out for his shoulder and Chris can feel his icy cold fingers radiating through the thin material of his long sleeve. “Uh could you walk with me? I don’t have an umbrella and I don’t want to get wet -again.”

Chris doesn’t hesitate to say okay, it’s definitely not because Felix is cute and sends him funny texts with way too many emojis. Felix slips his arm through Chris' and links them together by the elbow, nodding for Chris to lead the way.

This is definitely one of Chris' better days


End file.
